


cakewalk

by doremifasorashige, thunderylee



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-19
Updated: 2012-07-19
Packaged: 2019-01-20 07:06:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12427497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doremifasorashige/pseuds/doremifasorashige, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Fujigaya and Kitayama hide in a cake.





	cakewalk

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

“This is the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” Kitayama grumbles as he pretends not to notice that he doesn’t have to crouch down in the small enclosed space.

“You mean the most _awesome_ ,” Fujigaya hisses back, and Kitayama can still see the devious smirk on his face despite the darkness. “Watta’s going to freak when we jump out of this.”

Kitayama just hrmphs, yet again cursing his inability to say ‘no’ to that stupidly gorgeous face and his ridiculous pranks. “Usually it’s strippers who jump out of birthday cakes.”

Fujigaya considers his attire and shrugs. “We can do that, too. Whatever.”

Rolling his eyes, Kitayama checks the display on his phone. “When is he supposed to be here again?”

“Any minute,” Fujigaya replies. “And don’t be so crabby. You’ll be the worst birthday present ever.”

Kitayama is pretty sure this already _is_ the worst birthday present ever. “I’m not being crabby. I’m just not thrilled about the idea of being in a cramped space with you, there are much better things we could be doing.” This isn’t entirely true, there are just much better things he could think of them doing in said cramped space.

The grin on Fujigaya’s face can practically be heard as he leans close to Kitayama. “Really?” His shoulder is bare from an all too big shirt slipping off his frame. “What do you have in mind?” That shouldn’t be attractive.

He ignores the question, “I’m not stripping. Just so you know.”

Fujigaya’s laugh is breathy against Kitayama’s neck. “What a shame.”

Kitayama stares straight ahead at the inner wall of the fake cake, lamenting his hard life, but even he can’t stop the shiver that courses through him as Fujigaya repeats the question, this time much closer to his ear.

“I said, _what did you have in mind_ , Mitsu?”

“Do you have to be so close to me?” Kitayama asks. “We’re not on camera right now.”

“Good,” Fujigaya replies, and Kitayama jumps as an arm snakes around his shoulders. “There are some things I won’t do on camera.”

“That’s surprising,” Kitayama says sarcastically, but the next second has him gasping as Fujigaya’s lips make contact with the shell of his ear.

“He could arrive any minute, Mitsu.” Fujigaya’s voice sounds positively filthy. “The window of opportunity is now.”

It’s best if he doesn’t move, Kitayama thinks. That way he’s not giving into Fujigaya’s advances and not making matters worse.

Fujigaya is moving his lips along the shell of his ear still down towards his neck to the small space between his shirt collar. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to ignore me.” His voice sounds amused.

The breath tickles Kitayama’s neck and he shivers. “This really isn’t the place for this, Fujigaya.” His voice is rough completely betraying him.

“All the more reason.” Fujigaya whispers, blowing softly into his ear. He moves to sit directly behind Kitayama, both arms wrapped around his waist and legs on either side of his. “Exciting isn’t it?”

Kitayama’s traitorous body arches, teeth biting his lip to keep from moaning as Fujigaya’s hands grab for his hips and pull him backwards, flush against Fujigaya’s front. He’s hard, Kitayama can feel it, and every fantasy he won’t admit to existing rushes to the forefront of his mind.

“Fine,” he finally says, and Fujigaya makes a pleased sound. “But if we’re doing this, we’re doing it my way.” And he turns around, grabbing Fujigaya by his stupidly wide collar and crushing their mouths together, swallowing Fujigaya’s gasp of shock and finally – _finally_ – tasting his lips.

It only takes a second for Fujigaya to catch up, wrapping all of his limbs around Kitayama like a slutty spider and grinding down against his lap. Those sinful hips aren’t just for stage use and Kitayama kisses him harder when he feels them rubbing together, his own erection quickly forming and taking over whatever logic he has left around this one.

It would be a lie if Kitayama said he didn’t want this, didn’t actually see this coming. Perhaps it’s the thought of Yokoo coming in any minute that makes it more exciting.

“So how are we doing this?” Fujigaya whispers against his neck. It’s a cross between that and a moan as he moves his face down and sucks on his collarbones.

There isn’t any other option aside from fast and dirty, Kitayama concludes running a hand up through Fujigaya’s hair and directing their faces together again. The kiss is more tongue than lips in the heat of the moment. He had hoped, in the back of his mind, that just maybe they’d get through the event without it being about sex, so he wasn’t prepared. Sliding a hand down Fujigaya’s back and to his ass, he feels the faint outline of what he believes to be a condom in his tight pants pocket. Clearly the younger had planned this in advance.

“Slut,” Kitayama murmurs into their kiss as he retrieves the condom and a sample packet of lube.

Fujigaya grins against his lips. “Maybe I’ve just been waiting for you to jump me.”

Kitayama thrusts his hand into Fujigaya’s fluffy hair and _pulls_ , eliciting the sweetest noise from Fujigaya that goes straight to his cock. He’s about to rip Fujigaya’s crazy tight jeans off so this whatever-this-is can move along, but Fujigaya’s one step ahead of him and manages to shimmy out of one leg without getting tangled in his clothes.

“You are talented at all the wrong things,” Kitayama comments.

“You meant the right things,” Fujigaya replies, groaning low in his throat as his cock bumps Kitayama’s stomach. “You don’t have to go easy on me, I like it rough.”

_Anything to make it dirtier than it already is_ , Kitayama thinks as a set of hands start to undo his pants. He breathes in sharply when Fujigaya’s hand slips inside is and palms his cock a bit before retreating to remove his pants completely.

No time is wasted as Fujigaya takes the sample packet of lube from Kitayama and opens it, coating his fingers to prepare himself. “No point in dragging this out, right?” It shouldn’t sound sexy when he says that. The way his voice lowers to a whisper and how his body looks tight as he presses a finger in, leaning his head on Kitayama’s shoulder. The sounds Fujigaya’s making goes straight to Kitayama’s cock, not that he needed anymore reason to go through with this.

With both hands on either side of Fujigaya’s face, Kitayama kisses him roughly, swallowing the sounds Fujigaya makes while thrusting his own finger in and out of the tight heat. Kitayama should feel more disgusted with himself right now, but all he can think of is how amazing it will be when he’s inside of the younger and it just fuels him to move this along faster.

“Hurry up,” he finds himself whispering, and Fujigaya makes a choked noise as he stretches himself more.

“Almost,” Fujigaya says, his voice strained, and Kitayama has never been so turned on as the other man breaks their kiss to throw his head back, mouth parted in a silent moan. “Okay.”

The second the consent is spoken, Kitayama grabs Fujigaya by the hips and pulls him further down onto his lap, rolling the condom onto his length before aiming it between Fujigaya’s legs. His next exhale gets caught in his throat as Fujigaya hooks his legs around his waist and lowers himself, taking Kitayama inside him inch by inch.

“Fuck, Mitsu,” he gasps, and Kitayama’s forehead makes contact with Fujigaya’s bare collarbone as he bottoms out. He almost doesn’t want to move, it feels so good, but Fujigaya wants it hard and dammit, Kitayama is going to give it to him hard.

After Kitayama gains his breath once more he doesn’t hesitate to give Fujigaya what he wants and pulls out all the way only to thrust up once again hard and fast.

Fujigaya’s legs tighten around his waist as he meets Kitayama halfway. Low moans escape him as he tries to say something even remotely coherent, but his brain has left him.

His hands tighten on Fujigaya’s hips, mouth dragging along that deliciously dark skin that’s starting to shine with sweat, and he can feel Fujigaya’s heartbeat against his lips. Sensations course all throughout his body, settling in his groin where Fujigaya bouncing on his cock, rasping faint moans into his hair with a firm hold on his shoulders.

“Mitsu,” he gasps, and Kitayama presses a noncommittal noise into his collarbone. “Touch me, please. Get me off.”

“Lazy,” Kitayama grumbles, and Fujigaya starts to hiss about already doing all the work until Kitayama takes his cock in hand and wastes no time pumping it.

If Fujigaya didn’t have control over himself before, he sure doesn’t now as Kitayama moves his hand along his length in a quick, erratic pattern, letting out breathy moans that he’s not even trying to hide by pressing his face into Kitayama’s neck. “Does discreet mean anything to you?” he asks lowly as to not make just as much noise.

Fujigaya doesn’t answer as he fucks himself on Kitayama’s cock, trying hard to get the right angle.

Just then Kitayama shifts, thrusting up and hitting that spot Fujigaya’s been aiming for, and release is just moments away; they both can taste it.

“Come with me,” Fujigaya hisses, bouncing so fast that he’s lost his rhythm, but it doesn’t matter because Kitayama’s got him by the hips and slams him down with each rock upwards. “ _Now_.”

Before Kitayama can argue, some quip about being a sap on the tip of his tongue, Fujigaya tightens even more around him and nothing can stop the rush of his orgasm. It’s hard and fast just like their sex and Kitayama bites down on Fujigaya’s skin to keep from moaning out loud as he comes.

Fujigaya doesn’t bother muffling his noises, a low, drawn-out whine that resounds in Kitayama’s ears for long after the tingling subsides. There’s nothing but labored breathing for a few seconds as Fujigaya falls limp against him and Kitayama can’t bring himself to push him away.

Until they both hear the door open.

Kitayama shivers as he hears Yokoo’s voice say, “In the cake though?” He’s frowning at the two of them from outside the small door to the fake cake. “Of all the places.” He doesn’t sense any disappointment; it is as if he knew this would happen.

“You took too long Watta, I got bored,” comes Fujigaya’s tired statement that has Kitayama pushing him off his lap to fix himself up. It’s getting stuffy in there anyway.

“You must be bored a lot because this isn’t the first time,” there’s an amused glint in Yokoo’s eyes.

Kitayama really does not want to know. He tucks his shirt back into his pants when he steps outside of the cake. His legs are numb from sitting with Fujigaya’s weight on him and his left foot is asleep causing him to almost fall over.

“Why were you even in there anyway?” Yokoo’s a bit curious since it’s the wrong month for anyone’s birthday. “Taisuke messaged me asking me to come down here but he didn’t clarify as to why.”

Kitayama stops in his tracks with wide eyes before turning a glare on Fujigaya who giggles as he walks away. “Lied just to plan this entire thing, didn’t you?” He’s not sure if he should be pissed off or grateful.

“Fell for it, didn’t you?” Fujigaya calls out over his shoulder, and Kitayama’s first urge is to run up and kiss the smirk off his face.

So he does, and he can almost hear Yokoo rolling his eyes.

“Besides, if you two were _really_ going to jump out of a cake for me, I’d expect at least g-strings,” Yokoo says, and Kitayama makes a face into the kiss.

When he doesn’t get a response, Yokoo sighs.

“It’s someone’s birthday somewhere, I suppose,” Kitayama hears him add, but he’s not really paying attention anymore.


End file.
